


Hell and Holy Water

by thechemicalgirl



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale's Bookshop, Character Study, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 17:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19381672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechemicalgirl/pseuds/thechemicalgirl
Summary: 'Crowley only hummed in agreement, stretching on the bench. They have just stopped the Armageddon together, turned Adam against his father, Satan himself, his car exploded, and every single demon in Hell probably wanted his death, but he hasn't felt that good in a long time. Aziraphale was sitting next to him, very much alive, so what else could he ask for after everything that happened?'or5 times Crowley tried to hide his feelings from Aziraphale + 1 time he didn't have to, but I don't like long titles.





	Hell and Holy Water

**Author's Note:**

> A very quick note before you start reading, 5 scenes are from the show, but told from Crowley's perspective and one is a missing scene that takes place after the Armageddon, both of their trials etc.  
> Enjoy reading and leave something behind!

1.  
So maybe he pretended to be a bit more drunk than he really was, so what. The most important thing was that Aziraphale was drunk for real, poor lightweight heavenly creature. Now all it would take was some more or less reasonable convincining, he just had to figure where to begin...

'My point is... My point is... dolphins' he slurred, mentally giving himself a high five. Aziraphale surely wouldn't resist that argument, even Beelzebub herself admitted they were clever and could do some great work on the evil side. 'That's my point. Big brains, size of...' he took his sunglasses off, and sent the angel his most persuasive look. '...damn big brains. Not to mention the whales!'

Thank Satan, Aziraphale seemed to have caught the bait. 

'Kraken! Great... Big bugger. He's supposed to raise up to the surface, right up... at the end, when the sea boils.' he muttered, and Crowley immediately decided to grab the chance to ultimately win him over.

'Well, that's my point! Whole sea bubbling, dolphins and whales... Everything turning into bouill... blioul... fish stew. Anyway, it's not their fault!' 

Aziraphale just sat there through the rest of his speech about gorillas and eternity, looking kind of drowsy and stunned, sometimes making a face at what he said. Crowley was almost certain that he would agree to help him right away, but then the angel frowned and shook his head.

'I don't like it any more than you do,' he explained slowly. 'But I told you, I can't dis... not do what I'm told. I am an angel!'

They looked at each other for a few seconds, barely able to focus their eyes on anything. Aziraphale groaned, and Crowley already knew that his performance wasn't over. Not only that, the worst part was coming. 

'I... I can't cope with this while I'm drunk' the angel mumbled tiredly. 'I'm going to sober up.'

Crowley sighed and nodded abruptly.

'Me too.' 

Well, maybe sober discussion would be a better solution. The only important thing was that at the end of it they had to make an agreement. It wasn't that Crowley was against the Armageddon, or that he wanted to be some sort of hero who would save people from destruction; they weren't that bright anyway. It was just that... he liked things the way they were. His luxurious flat in London, his vintage car with Queen records, the fact that he could simply do whatever he wanted and only report some made up deeds to the head office once in a while... his friendship with Aziraphale, too. If there was a battle between Heaven and Hell, they would obviously have to fight on opposite sides, and then things couldn't get more complicated. Imagining it made him almost scared, what a disgusting feeling.  
He couldn't explain it directly to the angel of course, but he knew that Aziraphale, as a creature of peace, would be willing to help if he pictured everything the right way.

'The Antichrist has been born. It's the upbringing that's important, the influences,' Crowley leaned towards him, raising his eyebrows. 'The evil influences... That's all gonna be me. Too bad if someone made sure that I failed, right?'

He could literally point out the exact moment when Aziraphale decided to agree with him - his blue eyes widened and his mouth opened slightly. Bloody hell, he was always so easy to read, but Crowley absolutely loved it. 

'Well... If you put it that way...' 

He extended a hand, and Crowley shook it firmly, feeling like a great weight was lifted off his shoulders. He hoped relief wasn't too obvious on his face when he smirked and lightly said: 

'We'd be godfathers, sort of. If we do it right, he won't be bad. Or good. He will just be normal.' 

Aziraphale smiled for the first time that evening then, wrinkles appearing in the corners of his eyes. 

'It might work... Godfathers.' He breathed, visibly delighted. Crowley couldn't help but smile himself, thanking Satan and all demons that he managed to get his support.  
That wasn't about Heaven or Hell anymore; they were on their own side now. 

2.  
The ground burned his feet, but he knew that Aziraphale was inside and about to get shot, so he could deal with that inconvenience. When he marched inside the cathedral, he was greeted with three surprised faces, and one reflecting a mix of relief, annoyance and anger. 

'What are you doing here?' Aziraphale hissed, anger finally prevailing. 

'Stopping you from getting into trouble!' 

They looked at each other for a long moment, Crowley trying to somehow tell the angel 'everything's planned, no worries,' without using words. Arizaphale has probably only understood the first part though, because his eyebrows furrowed and he said, sounding scandalised:

'I should've known! This people are working for you!' 

Crowley felt offended, honestly, why was he always the worst one? There were spies trying to kill them and he was supposed to be responsible for this! He quickly explained that to Aziraphale, hoping he wouldn't ask any more questions, but then one of the men spoke up. 

'Mr. Anthony J. Crowley!' 

'Anthony?' Aziraphale mumbled with a frown. 

'You don't like it?' 

'No, I didn't say that. I will get used to it.' 

Crowley smirked, still trying to stop dancing around like a fool (damn consecrated places). The lady had her gun pointed at him now, so he decided it was about time to tell them about the bomb that was going to land there very bloody soon. They didn't seem to care though. Not a big loss - Hastur would be pleased to have three new souls in Hell that night. 

'You are all wasting your valuable running away time!' he exclaimed, almost pitying the agents for being idiotic enough not to believe him. He could already hear the sound of the bomber approaching in the distance. 'And if in thirty seconds a bomb does land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it.' he said pointedly.

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows and looked at him.

'A real miracle?'

'Kill them. They are very irritating' one of the agents gestured towards them before bending down to gather the books. Crowley assumed that the angel must have brought them to the cathedral for whatever reason, and decided that he could perform one more tiny miracle that night. Hopefully Beelzebub and the head office wouldn't mind too much.  
The air was suddenly pierced by a zip and four faces turned to look at the ceiling, searching for the source of it. Crowley only watched them in amusement, casually waiting for the explosion. 

It wasn't a pleasant feeling, but everything was over quickly. He had to take off his sunglasses to wipe them off the dust, and noticed Aziraphale glancing at him gratefully.

'That was very kind of you' he muttered. 

Deep down Crowley was awfully excited to see the angel's reaction when he got his beloved books back, but he kept his face blank. He rolled his eyes and drawled: 

'Shut up.' 

Aziraphale shook his head with a shy smile, but it disappeared after a few seconds, replaced with a grimace of dismay.

'Oh, the books! I forgot all the books... They will all be...' 

Crowley barely stopped the smirk that was threatening to find its way to his lips, walking over to one of the agents' bodies and yanking the leather bag out of their stiff hand. He passed it to Aziraphale, who stared at him with a smitten expression. 

'A little demonic miracle of my own.' he explained blandly, even though he felt remarkably proud of himself. Angel's face! He would have most definitely never guessed that Crowley was capable of something like that. How reckless. 

'Lift home?' 

He didn't have to turn to know that Aziraphale was still standing there, not sure if he should thank him or not.

3.  
Aziraphale refused to run away with him the first time, but it didn't mean he would also refuse it the second time, or that was what Crowley wanted to believe. He briefly considered leaving by himself, but then imagined his friend having to face the head office, especially that asshat Gabriel, all alone, maybe being punished, maybe even heralded a traitor for falling in with a demon... Hell, it could have already happened. Crowley was truly concerned, and it concerned him even more - he wasn't sure if he has ever felt something like that during the past six thousand years. One thing he knew for sure was that he absolutely had to find Aziraphale as quickly as possible, so he got in his car and drove straight to the bookshop, hoping that the angel got there safely. 

He almost doubled over in relief when he caught a glimpse of familiar white coat on the street. He parked somewhere on the sidewalk, not even caring if it was against the human laws. 

'Angel!' he shouted, and Aziraphale turned towards him, visibly surprised. 'I'm sorry, I apologise, whatever I said... I didn't mean it.'

All of that was true. Crowley was sorry, even though he knew it probably didn't look like he was. He wasn't the one to blame - they had to hurry and disappear while they still had the chance, before the demons could get either of them. 

'Work with me, I'm apologising here, yes? Good. Get in the car!' he realised he sounded desperate, he was desperate, but Arizaphale just didn't understand. He was honestly so righteous it touched Crowley every time, after everything that has already gone down, he still didn't want to go against Heaven and other angels. 

'What? No!' 

'Forces of Hell figured out that it was my fault. But we can run away together! Alpha Centauri, no one will even notice us!' 

He wanted to scream and beg him, overwhelmed by the feeling of pure panic, but he tried to remain rational. It was hard when Aziraphale was talking such nonsense, really. Finding the right people? Reaching out to God? She wouldn't even care enough to glance down at them.

'How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?'

He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, and the way the angel's face hardened only confirmed it. 

'I forgive you,' he spoke airily, and Crowley could cry from frustration right then and there, in front of everyone on the street. He was able to handle one rejection, but there was no time for another one. There was one thing he wanted the most in the world in that moment, to run away with his only friend, forget all about Armageddon, Hell and Heaven, Beelzebub and Gabriel, about everything. All they needed would be each other's company, and maybe eventually they would be able to come back to Earth. 

But well, Aziraphale didn't want the same thing, just like that. Crowley wasn't sure if demons even had a heart, but he could definitely feel his breaking.

He walked back to his car, thankful for his sunglasses. Not that his teary eyes would have changed anything, but he didn't want Aziraphale seeing how much his refusal hurt him. For Satan's sake, what a dumbass.

'I'm going home angel! I'm getting my stuff and I'm leaving!  
And when I'm off to the stars...' he paused, trying to find the most terse thing to say. 'I won't even think about you!' 

He slammed the door and stepped on the gas pedal as hard as he could, careful not to look into the wing mirror.

4.  
Crowley didn't care if the world was going to end anymore, because it already felt like his world has ended.

He wanted to reach out to Aziraphale after all, obviously, so he drove back to the bookshop... and that was when everything went to Hell, literally. The building was in flames, Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen, and Crowley knew he wouldn't ever be vacant enough to walk into the fire, so there was only one anwser to all of this - Aziraphale was killed. His best friend... was gone.  
Crowley would have never called himself anything but self-absorbed, but at that moment he realised that somewhere during that six thousand years Aziraphale might have changed that. He cared about the angel, he wanted to run away with him so they could stay safe... well, now it was just a useless fantasy. At least there was alcohol to help him cope with everything. 

When he was opening his second bottle of whisky, suddenly the lightning struck inside the bar, so bright he flinched even though he was wearing his sunglasses. For a few seconds Crowley was sure he was experiencing some kind of drunk hallucination, but then Aziraphale's silhouette smiled gingerly and... bloody hell.

'Aziraphale?' he whispered. 'Are you here?' 

'Good question, I'm not certain. Never done this before...' the angel explained, but it was his voice, no doubt. Crowley felt his whole face twist in emotion, but quickly pushed his sunglasses further up on his nose and tried to calm his breathing. Aziraphale watched him with a puzzled expression, before asking:

'Did you go to Alpha Centauri?'

'No, I've... Changed my mind' he shrugged, reaching for his whisky. He could hear his own voice breaking as he continued. 'Stuff happened. I lost my best friend.' 

He could have just cried already honestly, he wasn't able to hide anything at that point, but miraculously Aziraphale didn't seem to notice. He looked awfully sympathetic and went quiet for a short moment.

'I'm so sorry to hear it,' he said, and Crowley wanted to grab his shoulders (shame they weren't here), shake him and scream 'I mean you, you complete idiot!' until he got it. He didn't do any of that of course, and before he could come up with a response, Aziraphale spoke again: 

'Listen, back in my bookshop there is a book I need you to get.' 

'Oh... Your bookshop isn't there anymore,' Crowley muttered, trying to break it as gently as possible. 'I'm really sorry, it burned down.' 

The silence stretched and he could see how shaken Aziraphale was. Well, that made the two of them.

'All of it?' 

'Yeah,' he stuttered, feeling the tears fill his eyes with new strenght. 'What was the book?' 

'One young lady with a bicycle left it behind. The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of...' 

'...Agnes Nutter! Yes, I took it!' 

It might have been a real miracle, but the book was in an intact condition, all of Aziraphale's notes still inside. Crowley felt slightly hurt that the angel hasn't told him anything about the Antichrist's real identity earlier, but it was quickly replaced with overwhelming happiness. For Satan's sake, he was alive, they would see each other again.

'Where are you?' 

'I am not really anywhere yet, I've been discorporated... You need to get to Tadfield Airbase.'

'Why?' 

'World ending. That's where it's all gonna happen,' Aziraphale explained and he was smiling again, all of a sudden Crowley desperately wanted to see him in his usual form. Hopefully he would be able to do it before everything's destroyed. 'I'm going to head there too. I just have to find a receptive body... Pity I can't have yours.' 

Crowley didn't really know how to comprehend it, so he simply flinched.

'Angel, demon... It would probably explode. Alright, I'll meet you at Tadfield!' 

Aziraphale began to fade away, and Crowley wasn't sure if he was ready to lose sight of him again.  
He sat in the bar for a while longer, on the edge of breaking down, but his emotional outburst had to wait.  
They had to save the world first. 

5.  
'So it all worked out for the best.' 

Crowley only hummed in agreement, stretching on the bench. They have just stopped the Armageddon together, turned Adam against his father, Satan himself, his car exploded, and every single demon in Hell probably wanted his death, but he hasn't felt that good in a long time. Aziraphale was sitting next to him, very much alive, so what else could he ask for after everything that happened? 

'Just imagine how awful it might have been if we were at all competent.'

He sighed and nodded tiredly.

'Point taken. What's that?'

Aziraphale was holding a small piece of burned paper in his hand, but immediately allowed Crowley to take it. The demon tried to focus his eyes on the text, which was a bit difficult in the dark and after drinking as much alcohol as hs did that evening. 

'It fell out of Agnes Nutter's book.'

'For soon enough you will be playing with fire?' Crowley read out loud, and something in his chest tightened. He was afraid he had an idea what those words could mean.  
'So this is the final one of Agnes' prophecies?'

'As far as I know.' 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the only sound coming from the car passing them. 

'Angel...' Crowley began, not sure what he wanted to say yet. 'What if the Almighty planned it all along? From the very beggining?'

Aziraphale didn't look at all scandalised, like Crowley expected, he seemed like he actually considered that. 

'Could have,' he muttered and took a sip from the bottle of wine. They were interrupted by the delivery man, who apparently came to collect the things that Four Horseman of Apocalypse left behind. Crowley zoned out for a few seconds, watching Aziraphale search for the sword. He felt a sudden hit of affection towards him; how much they have lived through together? They even survived the Armageddon. They stopped it.

Shortly after the delivery man left with the box, a bus appeared on the road. 

'Oh, there it is,' Aziraphale pointed. 'It says Oxford on the front?'

'Yeah, but he'll drive to London anyway. He just won't know why.'

Crowley felt dangerously close to doing something awful and stupid, like asking him to stay, or maybe bursting into tears. Aziraphale's next words only made the matter worse.

'I suppose I should get him to drop me off at the bookshop.'

Crowley turned to him, internally cursing Heaven and Hell.

'It burned down, remember?' he asked gently, watching angel's face fall. He didn't know where he found the bravery to offer what he did, but it was like the words left his mouth without permission: 'You could stay at my place, if you'd like.'

Damn it, I wanted you to run away with me twice and you didn't, please, his mind prompted. Aziraphale looked deeply shocked, what a precious creature.

'I don't think my side would like that,' he finally said, and Crowley almost snorted in frustration.

'You don't have a side anymore. Neither of us do. We are on our own side now.'

There it was, he said it for the first time, the thing he had in mind since Aziraphale agreed to work with him. They stared at each other, and Crowley felt this fantastic affection again. 

'Like Agnes said, we need to choose our faces wisely.' 

The bus stopped and they got in. Crowley truly hoped that the relief that flooded him when Aziraphale sat next to him wasn't too obvious on his face.

+1  
About a week after the end of the world they were sitting in Aziraphale's bookshop, listening to the rain banging on the windows. They didn't get to live together after all, since every destroyed thing came back without any sign of damage, and Crowley wasn't sure how he felt about it. On one hand, Aziraphale was truly happy to have his bookshop back, and then also he retrieved his car, which was damn lovely. But on the other hand... he really had hoped that he would get to see the angel more often now. 

'Aziraphale? Can I ask you something?' 

'Sure thing dear.' 

'Where exactly were you when the bookshop was on fire?'

Aziraphale stopped browsing through some newspaper he had spread on his lap, and looked up at him in surprise. 

'Oh! I haven't told you? That older man who was with us at the Tadfield Airbase, mister Shadwell I believe, came into my shop while I was trying to, well... Reach out to the head office. Not only he interrupted me, but also thought I am some kind of a demon and pushed me into incomplete transportation sigil,' he paused, furrowing his eyebrows. 'But I have no idea what caused the fire.' 

'He thought you were a demon?' Crowley asked, grimacing at the way his voice cracked. From where he was sitting at the top of the stairs he could easily see the whole bookshop, and he suddenly remembered what it looked like swallowed by flames a little too vividly.

'Yes, not very bright of him...' Aziraphale glanced at him and closed his newspaper completely. 'Are you okay?' 

Crowley nodded, adjusting his sunglasses. There was no need to worry Aziraphale after everything that he has already gone through, he knew how stressful the visit in Hell was. He played his part perfectly though - they both haven't heard a word from their sides. 

'Sure, everything's fine.' 

Aziraphale watched him carefully for a minute before saying: 

'Then take your sunglasses off.' 

Crowley froze in confusion, and maybe also a little bit of fear, but he wouldn't ever admit it. He lifted up his chin and slowly removed them, looking Aziraphale straight in the eye. The angel smiled, visibly satisfied.

'Alright, thank you. Could you now tell me how did you know that the bookshop has burned down?' 

'I came to apologise to you, obviously,' Crowley almost hissed, feeling strangely exposed. 'You weren't there, so I just assumed... I assumed that you got killed, okay?' 

He sounded angry, but to be honest he was only tired and miserable. Aziraphale got up from the couch and walked over to him, clearly not sure what to say. 

'And when you told me you lost your best friend... were you talking about me?' he finally asked.

Crowley laughed, more manic than happy, and patted the space next to him. Aziraphale sat there obediently, the ghost of a smile still on his lips.

'Have you seriously just figured that out? Dear Satan...' Crowley paused and leaned forward, rapidly wrapping his arms around the angel. What was the word for it that humans used? A hug? He wasn't sure, but it definitely felt comforting and he wondered why they have never done this during this six thousand years. Aziraphale tensed for a moment, but then also lifted his arms and returned the embrace, so careful that tears filled Crowley's eyes again. If he really got killed, he wouldn't ever have the chance to touch him again, and the thought alone made him flinch. 

'Crowley...' Aziraphale mumbled, trying to pull back enough to see his face. 'Are you sure you're okay?' 

Crowley shook his head, also pulling back slightly, but keeping his hands on Aziraphale's waist.

'If I am being honest, no. I don't know if I have been since the first time you told me you didn't want to go to Alpha Centauri with me,' he rasped out. 'I can't believe I'm saying this.' 

They looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter almost at the same time. They embraced again and Crowley closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember exactly how it felt like. Aziraphale stroked his back a bit awkwardly before asking:

'Does your offer to live together still stand?' 

Crowley held his breath and nodded against his shoulder.

'I suppose it does.'

**Author's Note:**

> I recently fell in love with Good Omens, the universe and especially the characters. Crowley is my absolute favourite so I decided that if I write a fanfiction (which... I obviously immediately did), it would be from his POV. Here you go! Hopefully you liked it, or at least enjoyed as much as I enjoy reading works of other people's who ship Aziraphale/Crowley.
> 
> If you want to get to know me better, visit my tumblr @thechemicalgirl, I post about Good Omens, other books and TV shows. 
> 
> (Also if you have read the Good Omens book tell me what you think about it, because I really want to buy it).


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